[Elizabeth's Perspective]
As my blurry consciousness gradually returned to my body, so came an unbearable agony!
I think my arm must have been snapped off; the people who attacked us yesterday afternoon were ruthless, showing no mercy whatsoever.
I slowly opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was Armstrong's bloodied face. He was still unconscious, his breath through his nostrils very faint, but thankfully, I was certain he was alive.
I lifted my gaze toward the only source of light in the cabin, a three-meter-high iron window. Sounds of branches swaying were barely detectable from outside the window, and in addition, I could smell the earthy scent of soil, freshly washed by a downpour.
Had Armstrong and I been taken by the attackers to some secluded forest?
